He approaches. Stops. Sniffs the air. Lopes away on long graceful limbs. He has the instincts of a hunted animal. They have served him well so far. A note comes to you later. He apologises for his attack of nerves and requests a new meeting.
Your allies touch off the kegs of powder. There is a sky-shaking explosion. Broken boards[…] fly every which way. Fragments of Snuffer rain down.
You gather the rostygold the Big Rat had on his person and leave the more fleshy trophies for others.
